Father
by mrslee
Summary: A man is found dead bound to a chair in his hotel room in an area notorious for hookers and narcotics. Is it a trick gone wrong? Or is there a more sinister answer to the crime that threatens to tear an entire family apart? Established EO.
1. Hotel Blues

**Disclaimer: Dick Wolf owns and will continue to own every SVU character. **If I owned them (which I totally don't) then Elliot and Olivia would be together and not toeing the line as irritatingly as they are now. Oh, and Kathy wouldn't be pregnant!

**Author's notes:** This is the third fanfiction I've written. The other two come before this one, but this one is my favourite and I'll have to post them another time. Blakehurst (a character mentioned in the story) is actually from the second fanfic I wrote, so it'll make sense once (or if) I post them. I hope you enjoy. This story is pretty much like a Law and Order: SVU episode, except Elliot and Olivia are an item. Good times.

Wednesday 8.30pm

"Jesus Elliot, pick one channel."

The screen flickered to yet another channel – some sort of nature documentary. The same one they had seen not thirty seconds ago. He had been channel surfing the same six stations for the past five minutes. At the speed he was changing them, it was a wonder he could see what was on them.

"There's nothing on." Elliot replied, eyes not leaving the screen. Olivia could feel his laugh, a burst of hot air, on the back of her neck as she gave an exasperated sigh.

The day had been extremely long; desk duty and a court appearance. She spent the whole day looking forward to lying on the couch with Elliot in front of the TV watching a movie. They had the lying on the couch part down, but the movie was long forgotten.

"You know if I kill you right now, I'd probably get away with a 'justifiable'. Olivia said sternly. Well, as sternly as was possible with Elliot in such close proximity.

He laughed again, his left hand rubbing her left side. She shifted at the tickling sensation he was provoking. "Elliot," she warned.

"What?" His voice, almost a growl, made the hairs on the back of her neck stand. That was a dangerous tone. One that meant she was in for it – in a completely good way.

Before it had the opportunity to go any further, the shrill tone of Elliot's phone pierced the air.

Elliot gave a frustrated groan as he reached blindly on the table for the source of his annoyance. "I didn't think we were catching", Elliot said as he flipped open his phone, "Stabler".

Olivia heard the murmur of their Captain's voice through the receiver and extricated herself from Elliot's warm body. She stretched her arms over her head letting out a satisfied sound as her muscles woke up.

Elliot sat up, as he listened to Cragen, "Elliot, I need you and Olivia over at the Lydia Hotel."

Elliot rubbed his free hand over his face, waking himself up a little bit, "I thought Munch and Fin were catching?" He rubbed Olivia's back as she got up and made her way to the bedroom.

"They got a break on the Marcos case, so this is all yours."

Elliot sighed, "Ok Cap." He flipped his phone closed, rising off the couch gingerly. He had pins and needles in his right arm. Shaking it, he followed the same path Olivia took, entering the bedroom.

Olivia was brushing her hair back into a ponytail as he pulled his jumper over his head, "where we off to?"

"Lydia Hotel", Elliot said, pulling a clean shirt from the top drawer.

"The Whore Palace?" Elliot snorted, as he buttoned up his shirt.

"Yeah, I guess you could call it that"

Olivia clipped her badge to her belt, "and I thought I was going to enjoy the whole night of Stabler channel flicking."

Elliot made a face at her blatant sarcasm as he pulled his tie over his head. Laughing, Olivia eased it past his ears and under his collar, tightening, than straightening it for him.

"Thanks mum," he said, laughter sparkling in his eyes.

As exhausted as she was, being with him was as good as shot of adrenaline straight into the bloodstream.

"We better get going before the traffic gets too heavy," Elliot said chortling.

"Yeah, we want to beat the mad rush you normally get at this time of the night," Olivia replied, following him out of the apartment.

**000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000**

"Isn't it too cold for you to be outside of you office?" Elliot joked by way of greeting, as he and Olivia joined the ME outside the hotel room.

"Very funny," Melinda said wryly, waiting for them to put their gloves on before leading them into the hotel room. "Blakehurst won the toss; got the homicide in Queens"

Elliot snorted as he tucked his tie into his shirt, "so what have you got for us?"

They went further into the room, to where a man was tied to a chair; pants open, hands bound, gagged and partially blindfolded.

"Dennis Quant. ID was in the wallet. 45. He isn't reported as missing. Cause of death is a single gunshot wound the chest. He bled to death." Melinda circled the body, pointing to the red stain on his shirt, "the bullet looks like it pierced his heart. He's been dead about two hours. The manager called it in, he's waiting for you downstairs."

"Thanks," Elliot said as Melinda joined one of her colleagues across the room.

"Trick gone wrong?" Olivia suggested as they took in the body before them. She watched as Elliot walked carefully past the body and into the tiny bathroom. She saw the wallet on the bed, and bagged it as Elliot re-entered the main room.

"Bathroom's clean, no blood. But this is a hotel room, there are prints everywhere."

O'Halloran called out to Olivia, "we've got your murder weapon." Olivia reached out for the bag he offered.

"Prints?" O'Halloran shrugged, the grip might be too textured to lift off a print, but we'll send it to the lab anyway. We'll let you know."

Elliot came up to Olivia's side, "why did it take so long for the police to be called?"

"It's an unsafe neighbourhood. Gunshots are a regular occurrence. You'll need to ask the manager."

Elliot and Olivia nodded, "let's go."

**000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000**

"Room 10, room 10…" the manager, Mr Stevens, mumbled to himself as he pulled out some paperwork from the drawer behind him. "Wasn't too discrete. Paid with a credit card." He pushed the papers across the counter to Elliot and Olivia, "Dennis Quant"

They scanned the sheet quickly, Elliot looked up, "you see him come up with anyone?"

Stevens nodded, "Oh yeah. She's a regular. Different guy most nights"

"You know her name?"

Stevens shook his head, "not much of a talker"

"We'll get you to work with a sketch artist if that's OK?" Olivia asked, pocketing the credit card receipt.

Stevens looked at his watch, "I finish in an about an hour. I can be at your precinct at about 11pm"

Olivia smiled, "you've done this before?"

Stevens nodded again, "this ain't exactly Pleasantville. That's why I didn't call in the shot. It was only after I went to collect the money he owed extra that I saw something was wrong."

Elliot nodded, "did you see the woman leave?"

Stevens thought for a second, "Not long after the shot went off. She left maybe five minutes later. Can't say for sure, I try not to pay too much attention"

Elliot gestured for one of the uniforms manning the door, "when Mr Steven's here finished his shift, give him a ride down to the precinct for a sketch ok?" He turned back to Stevens, "thanks for your help"

Mr Stevens smiled, closing the drawer behind him.

Elliot and Olivia began towards the exit, "let's see if Mr Quant had a family"

"And if they knew how he was spending his evenings"

**000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000**

Sylvia Quant had a pretty face, nothing extraordinary, and a no-nonsense air about her. She smelt expensive, and her clothes and jewellery would suggest the same. Photos dominated the mantle behind her in the living room, where they were currently informing her of her husband's death. She sat so silently that there was every possibility she had fallen asleep with her eyes open. She didn't even bat an eyelid when they mentioned he had been with a hooker at the time.

"I can't say I'm surprised," Mrs Quant said, fidgeting with her wedding ring.

"Surprised?" Olivia asked.

Mrs Quant gave Olivia an even look, "I'm not stupid Detective. That's why Dennis and I separated in the first place – his infidelities weren't as discrete as they had been initially. I didn't want it to hurt my children anymore."

Elliot raised an eyebrow, "you were getting a divorce?"

Mrs Quant nodded, "in the process of"

"Mum?" A voice from the doorway startled the three in the doorway.

She was obviously a Quant, taking after her mother in looks, but with her father's piercing blue eyes. She looked to be 17, and acknowledged Elliot and Olivia's presence with a nod in their direction as well as a look of curiosity as she entered the room.

"Krystal, I thought you were sleeping over at Jackie's?"

"I was. I mean, I am…I left my toothbrush here. I heard voices," she turned to look at the Detectives again, "what's going on?"

Mrs Quant didn't answer straight away. She reached out and grasped Krystal's hands, pulling her down to sit next to her. "Mum, what is it?" Tears began to fill her eyes, "it's dad isn't it?"

Olivia felt more than saw Elliot glance at her briefly.

"Mum, tell me!" Krystal began to cry in earnest, tears spilling down her cheeks.

Mrs Quant seemed to be frozen, so Olivia spoke up for her, "your father was murdered earlier this evening."

Krystal turned her head in the direction of Olivia's voice, not really focussing on anything. Her gaze turned glassy, and she wrenched her hands out of her mother's tight grasp. "Oh my God" she breathed, breathing heavily, "Oh my God" she repeated. Mrs Quant reached out to soothe her, but Krystal jerked away and off the sofa. Mrs Quant finally showed some emotion: hurt and embarrassment graced her features.

"I'm sorry" Krystal said, turning to Olivia and Elliot, "but I need to get out of this house." She turned back to her mother, "Jackie's waiting for me in the car. I'll be home tomorrow." She looked as though she was lost, still breathing heavily, as she scanned the room, almost as though she was getting her bearings. She let out one final sigh and left the room quickly. The sound of the front door slamming echoed loudly. Mrs Quant wouldn't look them in the eye.

Elliot cleared his throat, "Mrs Quant, we're sorry, but we need to ask this. Where were you at about 5pm this evening?"

She had to be given credit, Mrs Quant had gotten a hold of herself, her back straighter, her gaze unwavering as she looked Elliot in the eye as she answered, "I came home from work at about 4pm. I had a headache so I went to bed. I woke up when Krystal got home at about 7:30pm".

They realised that would probably be the extent of the information that they'd get from her, so Olivia, smiling warmly said, "Thank you for your help." They rose together from the couch, "we're sorry for your loss."

Mrs Quant nodded, "you know where the front door is. You can let yourselves out"

Elliot and Olivia nodded, making their way out of the house silently. As they went down the front path, Olivia voiced her scepticism. "She's not telling us something"

Elliot nodded in agreement, "you felt that too?"

"Yeah. But I can't figure out if she's hiding something about her husband, or herself"


	2. Caffeine

**Disclaimer: Dick Wolf owns and will continue to own every SVU character. **If I owned them (which I totally don't) then Elliot and Olivia would be together and not toeing the line as irritatingly as they are now. Oh, and Kathy wouldn't be pregnant!

**Author's notes:** I'm absolutely floored by the response I got from the first chapter. I'm so glad you guys are enjoying it. This chapter takes off from where the first left, except the next day…make sense? Well it will. Enjoy!

**Chapter 2: Caffeine**

Thursday 7.30am

"Blue tie," Olivia repeated, as Elliot help up the two ties against his shirt.

Elliot gave a fake pout, "why not the red one?"

Olivia rolled her eyes, "then wear the red one. I don't know why you bother asking me when you end up choosing anyway."

"Fine, I'll wear the blue. It'll match your top." Elliot said, discarding the red tie back into his drawer. His drawer, in her apartment. That thought alone made her grin stupidly.

"The wall say something funny?" Elliot asked, feigning seriousness.

Olivia grinned, "oh yeah, It's a regular Jerry Lewis"

"Should I be worried?" Elliot asked, matching her grin as he buttoned his jacket.

Olivia shrugged playfully, exiting the room, "we'll see. Depends what's on offer"

Elliot chuckled as he followed her towards the door, "just me"

Olivia paused at the door, looking like she was deep in concentration, "hmmm, I think I can handle that"

**00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000**

"They're alive!" Elliot exclaimed as he and Olivia entered the bullpen. Munch and Fin looked up at them from their desks.

"Haha," Munch said wryly, "you mock us now. But we've spent the morning helping you on your case"

"What about your case?" Elliot asked, handing his jacket to Olivia.

Fin answered without looking up, "we closed it last night. It's up to Casey now"

"Good work," Olivia said, hanging up hers and Elliot's jacket, "so what'd you find?" She joined Elliot perched on the edge of their desks.

"We checked up the vic's wife's alibi. Totally didn't check out." Fin said, rising from his desk and handing them a picture taken from a CCTV camera. "That's a café two blocks from the Lydia Hotel," Fin pointed to the female in frame, "and that's Mrs Quant leaving it at 5.30pm"

Elliot laid the photo down on his desk, rubbing his eyes with the palms of his hands, "so much for a headache"

Olivia nodded, "I knew she was hiding something." She turned to Fin, "How'd you know where to look?"

"Anonymous tip," Munch supplied.

"Probably her daughter," Olivia said. Munch nodded in the affirmative. Olivia turned to Elliot, "you saw her with her mother. She couldn't bear her touching her. Probably thinks she killed her father."

Munch rubbed his lip thoughtfully, "you don't think the wife did it?"

Olivia and Elliot exchanged a look, Olivia shaking her head offered, "I wasn't getting that vibe. She was obviously hiding something, but I didn't get the feeling she killed him."

Fin and Munch glanced at each other, handing a piece of paper over to Elliot, who then handed it over to Olivia. She read it quickly, a heavy feeling settling in her stomach.

"Ballistics says otherwise. The gun used was registered to a Mrs Sylvia Quant."

Olivia sighed, looking at Elliot, "let's see if bringing her in will get her to change her story."

**000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000**

"Let's try it again Mrs Quant. Where were you after 5pm on Wednesday evening?" Elliot asked, as Mrs Quant sat stiffly behind the table in the interrogation room.

"I told you I was sleeping," Mrs Quant repeated, looking Elliot straight in the eye.

Olivia pushed herself off the wall behind Elliot and threw the CCTV images in front of Mrs Quant. Quant blinked, but kept her gaze straight ahead.

Olivia put her palms flat on the table and leant forward, "we understand you're grieving the loss of your husband, but we need to know the truth. Do you know how bad it looks for you if you keep lying?" Olivia pushed the photos further in front of Quant's nose, "now, why did you lie to us?"

Olivia searched her eyes for any form of expression; Quant finally blinked and looked down at the photo in front of her. She sighed heavily, "you won't tell my children?"

Elliot looked at Olivia quickly, "are you confessing?"

Quant looked up sharply, "God, no. I'd never kill Dennis." She took a deep breath, looking around the room, but not at Elliot or Olivia, "I've been seeing someone." She looked down again, visibly ashamed.

Olivia looked at Elliot with a raised eyebrow, irony personified. She turned back to the bowed head of Sylvia Quant. "Why isn't your partner in the photo?" Olivia rounded the table and sat on it's edge to Quant's left.

"He's…he's married," Quant exhaled sharply, "I know! I know it's wrong!" She rose quickly, and walked briskly to the barred windows. "I'm by myself in the photo because we left separately. If someone saw us, do you realise what it would do to our reputation?"

Elliot and Olivia couldn't believe this woman. Her husband was dead and she was worried about her reputation.

"Right now, it's not your reputation about what you do in your spare time that you should worry about. You have a motive to murder your husband, and if it goes to trial, what about your reputation then? Mistress or murderer?" Elliot asked in a vicious whisper.

Quant swiped at her eyes with her hand, "you're not going to tell my kids are you?" she finally whispered.

Elliot shook his head, "if you tell us the truth, there's no reason that they need to know"

She nodded in response, "what do you need?"

Olivia placed the ballistics print-out in front of Quant, "The gun used to murder your husband was registered to you. Were you in possession of it?"

Quant shook her head, "it's registered to me, but Dennis took it with him when he moved out"

Elliot nodded, pulling the CCTV image from under the ballistics report, "and you ate at this café?"

Quant nodded, "well, he ate. I had a coffee. The waiter there knows us. We're regulars."

**0000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000**

"Where're we at?" Cragen asked, as Olivia and Elliot joined Munch and Fin back in the bullpen.

"Well the wife's story checks out." Munch said, putting the phone back on the receiver, "the waiter confirmed her presence until the camera caught her leaving."

Fin rose from behind his desk, handing some papers to Cragen, "and we just got the LUDs on her mobile. She made a business call to work at about 5.45pm lasting around 45minutes. The colleague confirmed she was talking to a room full of people."

"What about you two?" Cragen directed at Elliot and Olivia.

"We had the manager of the hotel help with a sketch of the hooker Quant was with. We're about to hit the streets, see what we find," Olivia offered, passing out the images of the woman to the other detectives and Cragen.

Cragen nodded, heading to his office, "Make it quick" he called back, "Munch and Fin have an appointment with Warner this evening."

**00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000**

"You looking for a good time sweetie?" Olivia rolled her eyes at the woman hanging herself on Elliot's open window.

Elliot held up the sketch in front of the hooker's face with a grin. She took the paper in her hands, shaking her head, "I don't do threesomes honey." She noticed Olivia in the driver's side, "what's wrong with her? Not good enough for you?"

Olivia narrowed her eyes, leaning back in her seat. Elliot snorted, "She's perfect for me, but this isn't about us. We need your help for this woman."

Olivia couldn't help the smile that appeared on her face as she kept her gaze ahead. The hooker pulled her head back out the window, shifting nervously. Elliot leant forward, "we're not from vice, we just need to find her. She may be in trouble."

The hooker handed him the piece of paper back, "she works on 9th Avenue."

Elliot smiled, "she got a name?"

The hooker leant forward again, pushing her cleavage towards Elliot's face, "you got a name?"

"I'll give you mine if you give me yours," Elliot said, giving his most charming smile, purposely avoiding looking down.

"Her name's Caramel Latte."

Elliot raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. "Don't look at me like that. It's what she told me."

"Thanks for your help," Elliot said, sitting back and beginning to wind his window up. He was stopped by her hand.

"And your name?"

Elliot gave her a half smile, "detective"

**0000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000**

"I let Munch and Fin know we found her," Olivia said, flipping her phone closed, and exiting the car. She followed Elliot towards their suspect who had been perched against a stoop. They hadn't alerted her to their presence, but it was amazing how they could smell cops from mere feet away. Luckily, her platforms were too high and she could barely waddle halfway down the street by the time they reached her.

"Hey! Hey! Come on. I ain't done nothing wrong!" She exclaimed loudly, as Elliot grabbed her arm.

"We didn't say you did, we just need to ask some routine questions"

She looked at them warily, "about what?"

**0000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000**

"Two sugars. And milk! You got biscuits?" Caramel Latte, or as she clarified, Josie Perez, requested Munch. Munch exchanged a look with Elliot, then mumbled to himself, obviously perturbed, as he left the room.

"He's going to be a little busy, so your order will have to wait." Elliot sat down opposite Perez. "So Josie?" Elliot began in a conversational tone, "where were you Wednesday night?"

The drumming of her fake nails on the tabletop paused momentarily. She shifted in her chair before commencing the rhythmic tapping. "Don't know what you're talking about."

Elliot looked behind Perez, to where Olivia was standing silently against the wall. Her gaze was directed at the back of Perez's head, boring a hole through it.

"We've got witnesses that place you at the Lydia Hotel with our murder victim around the time of his death. Care to explain?"

Perez looked at Elliot in defiance, "they're wrong." Elliot remained stoically silent opposite her, and Olivia still hadn't moved in the slightest. She kept her gaze on Elliot; the only indication that she was nervous was the increasing speed with which she tapped her nails. "Lots of pros use that place. I was on the other side of the city."

Elliot sat back, "really?" pretending to be surprised.

Perez nodded emphatically, throwing a wary look over her shoulder at Olivia.

Elliot shared a looked with Olivia, who bent her head forward slightly. "Then explain this," Elliot said, pushing a piece of paper in front of her, "this is a lab report confirming your prints on our victim's wallet, which was found in the room with him."

Perez's fingers stilled completely, "yeah," she started nervously, "I held it while he paid me."

Elliot sat back, "No, Josie. You know that won't hold up in court. You need to do a lot better than that. Preferably before we lose patience and book you right now."

Perez, brushed some hair behind her ear, now purposefully avoiding Elliot's unwavering gaze.

"Josie," Olivia said quietly, "we can't help you if you keep lying. What are you hiding?" Perez didn't turn around, but she finally looked up from the table and at Elliot, who was still sitting across from her – the epitome of patience.

"I was with him ok? But I didn't kill him! I swear." She exclaimed, reaching across the table and grasping Elliot's arm in desperation. "You gotta believe me!"

Elliot looked quickly at Olivia again, "so what did happen? And the truth this time," Elliot reminded her.

Perez took a deep breath, relinquishing her grip on Elliot's arm. "He picked me up from 9th Avenue, took me back to the hotel at about 6. He got us a room. When we got there he took forever deciding what he wanted to do." She sniffed, "by the time he'd decided, my…umm…buzz had worn off."

"So you had been high?" Olivia clarified.

Perez nodded, "So I tied him to the chair, like he asked. Then I started to put the blindfold on, but left it off a bit so he didn't think I'd up and run, when he requested I buy him some…err…product. He told me to get his wallet to pay for it, and I left the room for about 15-20 minutes while I scored from a guy a level up." She pushed some more hair behind her ear, sniffing, "so, the guy hooked me up. Then we heard a shot. When I got back to the room, the door was open, and he was still in the chair except there was….blood everywhere." She swallowed audibly, "and there was a gun on the floor. I panicked." She turned to look at Olivia behind her, "I even left the wallet behind – full of money!"

Like the fact she hadn't robbed from the guy counted for something. Elliot raised an amused eyebrow at Olivia. Perez mistook this look for one of disbelief, "I swear he was already dead. I didn't do it!" She gave a pleading look with her tear-filled eyes.

Elliot sat back, "we're going to keep you in a holding cell until your story clears"

Perez's eyes widened, "you can't do that!"

"Or we could bust you for possession and soliciting now," Olivia said, coming around Perez's left to sit next to Elliot.

Perez rolled her eyes, "see what happens when you talk to cops? I shoulda kept my mouth shut"

Olivia leant forward, "we don't want to do this, but pros are notoriously slippery. If we let you go, what are the chances we'd find you again?"

Perez smirked, "not good"

Elliot folded his arms, "so cooperate, and if you're innocent, you'll be out of here in no time."

"And how long's that?"

"Our colleague's are at the lab now. So how's this evening work for you?"

Perez let out a huff of breath as she leant back angrily.

Elliot and Olivia watched as the uniform escorted Perez out of the room, "we'll take that as a yes"

Olivia pulled the papers back into the folder, "so, feel like coffee?"


	3. Affairs

**Disclaimer: Dick Wolf owns and will continue to own every SVU character. **cries….I want Elliot for Christmas!

**Author's notes: **Your reviews are so kind, and your suggestions are cool too. However, I've already finished writing this story, so that's why I've been able to update mostly everyday. I might put some of the suggestions in my next one…if I write another one. The ending for this has been established, but I want to re-write some aspects, so the last couple of chapters may (most probably) not be up for a couple of days. This chapter should tide you over. And there's more e/o….just not them making out. I'm terrible at writing that aspect. Give me gore and serial killers and I'm fine….hmm…that can't be good. Anyway, without further ado, we go on with the show.

Thursday, 1pm

"Your Captain said you had a suspect?" Melinda asked as greeting to Munch and Fin as they entered her office.

"Yeah, a hooker called Caramel Latte," Fin replied, sitting down on the chair behind Melinda's desk.

Melinda raised her eyebrow in amusement, "how original."

"I thought so," Munch said, smirking. "Her story's one of kind as well"

"Really?" Melinda asked, pulling the file Fin was snooping through, and placing it in her drawer.

Munch nodded, amused at the face Fin made towards Melinda, "she's been lying through her teeth since we brought her in. Spun some story about not being in the room for twenty minutes while she scored off some dealer in the building."

"You don't believe her?" Melinda asked, folding her arms.

Fin looked up from another file he'd opened, "should we? There's no-one to corroborate with her story except a drug dealer. She was the only one the manager saw with him at the time of his death."

Melinda took the file Fin had and placed it in the same drawer as the other one, clearly exasperated with him, "well, the manager can't always see everything. Plus, O'Halloran has something that might interest you."

**000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000**

"Hey," O'Halloran said, jumping up from the chair he was in, "been waiting for a visit from you guys"

Munched smiled, "Warner says you have information for us?"

O'Halloran nodded, making his way to one of the counters that held all sorts of electronic equipment, which Munch was sure was worth more than his apartment and pension combined. Times ten. "We found fingerprints on your weapon and an estimated height of your perp." He pulled a file from the large stack on the edge of the desk. "Your captain called through with your perp's name," O'Halloran smirked, "her real name."

"I prefer Ms Latte myself," Munch said, reading the file over O'Halloran's shoulder.

"Whatever the name, she's in the system. Some soliciting charges and one assault. But…"

"Her prints don't match the ones on the gun," Munch finished, taking the file O'Halloran handed over.

O'Halloran nodded, "not even close. Sorry."

"Damn," Fin swore, "the gun was textured; she could've fired it with gloves or somethin'."

O'Halloran drew his lip in, shaking his head, "nice try. First the prints would've been smudged – these were clean. Also, the trajectory of the bullet shows that your perp is about 6ft 4'. Ms Latte's record says she's barely 5ft 5'."

Munch and Fin shared an incredulous look. "How do you know that?" Munch asked, taking the file from Fin.

"The blood spatter is consistent with the position the body was found in," Melinda offered, "as was post-mortem levidity. He was killed in the position we found him in."

"Well Ms Latte's story checks out." Fin said folding his arms.

O'Halloran nodded, "you have to bear in mind most of this information is circumstantial at best. And what I'm about to show you will probably have no bearing in court, but it will help in finding the guy."

"Well, are you going to keep us in suspense all day, or take up prosecuting?" Munch asked, looking at O'Halloran over the top of his glasses.

O'Halloran rolled his eyes before gesturing for Munch to follow him to where he had been sitting when they'd initially entered the lab. "Sit for me" O'Halloran said to Munch, pulling out his chair. Munch sat obediently, "So you're Quant and I'll be your perp."

Munch put his hands up, "don't shoot me."

Fin snorted, but O'Halloran pointedly ignored him as he stepped back about 3 feet from where Munch was sitting. "Ok, forensics came back with the gun shot residue pattern on you vic's clothing and the wall behind him. It was consistent with a shot fired by your weapon at about 3ft away. Hand me the gun please, Melinda," Warner handed O'Halloran the plastic 9mm over to him. O'Halloran continued, "The trajectory of the bullet at that distance means you're after somebody about 6ft4'."

Fin voiced his dissent, "how do you know that for sure?"

"Traditionally, you fire a weapon like this," O'Halloran held the fake gun out in front of him, aiming directly at Munch's chest. "Now if it were Perez who had shot Mr Quant, the bullet would've entered at a higher angle. Your bullet was lodged at an angle consistent with someone of a far greater height. Unless she shot him with the gun over her head." O'Halloran, meaning it to be a light-hearted comment, noticed the hopeful look on Fin's face and covered his tracks, "which she couldn'tve. The gun residue pattern was clear-cut, the gun was steady. If Perez did have the gun over her head, the shot would've jerked; unclean pattern."

Munch sighed, leaning forward, his forearms resting on his thighs, "thanks"

O'Halloran smiled, "you're welcome. I hope it helps you find this guy"

"Yeah," Fin said, following Munch towards the exit. They said goodbye to Warner and O'Halloran, making their way back to the elevator.

"Better call Elliot and get him to release the shot of caffeine," Munch said, pulling his phone out of the pocket of his jacket.

Fin smirked, "you're just mad she ordered you round like a man servant."

**00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000**

Elliot sighed heavily as he placed the phone back on the hook. He gestured for one of the passing uniforms, "Let Perez out."

Olivia looked up quickly from her paperwork, "why?"

"Prints don't match. Forensics tells us we're looking for someone a lot taller," Elliot relayed, taking a sip of his coffee.

Olivia raised an eyebrow, sipping from her own mug, "how do they know that?"

Elliot shrugged, "Munch tried to explain it to me. You know how it is when he rambles."

Olivia chuckled, straightening up the last of her paperwork.

Cragen came out of his office and approached their desks, hands deep in his pockets, "just got the call from the lab."

Elliot rubbed his eyes tiredly, "where to now Cap?"

Cragen rubbed the back of his head, thinking, "Did he work?"

Olivia flipped some pages of Quant's file, "yeah. Wife says when he wasn't sleeping around, he was working at some big internet company. Biggest in New York apparently"

Cragen nodded, "he high up?"

"Relatively," Olivia said, "some kind of consultant."

"Ask around," Cragen said, turning to go back to his office, "maybe his colleagues know whether or not someone had it in for him."

**000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000**

"Can I help you?"

Olivia smiled, pulling out her badge, "I'm Detective Benson, and this is my partner Detective Stabler. We're conducting a homicide investigation"

The security guard in the main lobby nodded in understanding, "you mean Dennis Quant"

"Yeah," Elliot said, pulling out his notebook, "can you tell us who he worked with?"

The security guard nodded, reaching behind him for a thick folder, "the company is made up of various departments," he explained as he opened the folder to the section he was looking for, "Dennis was a consultant on the twelfth floor. He worked closely with the top dogs, people in human resources, sometimes clients. Most of his work though was behind the desk with a computer."

Elliot wrote down the details quickly, as Olivia looked over the page the guard provided her. "Can we get a copy of this?"

The guard nodded, handing it to the secretary who had been sitting beside him. "Anything else?"

"Do you know any colleagues he was close to in particular?"

The guard chewed his lip thoughtfully as he handed the copy of the document to Elliot, "well, he'd always go to lunch with Trevor and Jeremy in his department."

"And they're on the twelfth floor?"

A nod, "yeah"

"We can go up?" Elliot asked, already following Olivia to the elevators.

"Absolutely," he replied, mostly to himself, as they rounded the corner and out of sight.

**000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000**

"What can you tell us about Dennis?" Olivia asked, wrapping her cold hands around the steaming mug of tea, Elliot mirroring her actions with his own cup of coffee.

Across from them sat Trevor Daly and Jeremy Goodes. Perhaps the slimiest two men Olivia and Elliot had ever encountered. If Jeremy wiggled his eyebrows suggestively at Olivia again, she was sure it would be lights out courtesy of Elliot's fist.

She rolled her eyes and saw Elliot's fist clench repeatedly as Trevor leered at her creepily, "anything you want," he responded.

Elliot rolled his neck, as he sat up straighter in his seat, "anyone have an issue with him at all?"

Jeremy and Trevor exchanged an amused look, "you could say that," Jeremy finally answered, taking a cautious sip of his coffee. Elliot was clearly growing increasingly frustrated with these two jerks.

"And what's that supposed to mean?"

Jeremy leant forward and Olivia almost reflexively leant back. Instead, she sat still as Jeremy made sure no-one was listening. "Let's just say he was getting more out of the boss's secretary than the boss actually was."

Olivia and Elliot exchanged a quick look, "his infidelities weren't a secret," Elliot said, folding his arms, "there a policy against dating co-workers?"

Jeremy and Trevor looked at each other again, before Trevor inclined his head towards Elliot and Olivia, "Not really. But there is an unwritten rule about screwing the boss's fiancé.

**000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000**

"Mr Bertrand is in a meeting, can I help you?"

Elliot pulled the lapel of his jacket open, flashing his badge, "I'm Detective Stabler," he pointed at Olivia, "and this is my partner Detective Benson"

The secretary smiled, "what can I do for you?"

"Are you Zoe Haschem?"

The secretary shook her head, "Zoe called in sick today. She really took Dennis's death hard. They were very close"

Olivia raised an eyebrow, "how close?"

The secretary cast a wary look towards the closed door of her boss's office, "well, there were rumours," she trailed off.

"Were they true?"

She sat back in her chair guiltily, "I don't want to seem like a gossip"

Olivia nodded her head in understanding, "this doesn't have to leave the room"

The secretary sighed, "there have always been rumours about the two," she paused, "mostly unsubstantiated, until about two weeks ago."

"What happened?"

"Well, apparently, the janitor caught them in a compromising position in his supply closet," she noticed Elliot and Olivia's quick glance, "word spread, but nobody but the janitor saw. It could be completely false"

"We spoke to his work colleagues who say they were romantically involved," Olivia supplied.

The Secretary raised a sceptical eyebrow, "Trevor and Jeremy?"

Olivia nodded as the secretary gave a small laugh, "they're sleaze-balls that could see sexual innuendo in a pot plant."

Elliot and Olivia smiled, "so we shouldn't believe them?"

She shrugged in response, "you'll need to ask Zoe that"

They made to leave, but Olivia turned back, "does her fiancé know about the rumours?"

She shrugged again, "and you'd have to ask Mr Bertrand that yourself"

Olivia inclined her head in the direction of the closed door, "now?"

She shook her head, "it's a very important meeting with international clients. But I'll write you in for this afternoon."

"In the meantime we'll check up on Zoe. You have her address?"

She pulled a card from the rolladex to her left, handing it to Olivia, "just bring it back when you come back this afternoon."

**000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000**

"Zoe Haschem?"

The woman who answered the door, nodded slowly. Her eyes were red from crying and from the way her hair was frizzed; it looked like she'd been in bed most of the day. Her present appearance however, masked a stunningly attractive woman, blonde and slim, with wide green eyes – which at the moment were glassy from tears.

"Who are you?" She asked, sniffing slightly.

"Detectives Benson and Stabler: SVU. We're investigating the murder of Dennis Quant"

"Oh, ok. Come in." She stood back and allowed Elliot and Olivia into the wide expanse of the entrance hall, before closing the door behind them.

Zoe pulled her dressing gown tighter around her as she led the detectives into the sitting room. Sitting room being an understatement. The fact that Elliot and Olivia's apartments could fit comfortably within the confines of the marble floors and mahogany walls, made Elliot wonder why Zoe would risk all this for a fling with that jerk Quant. A quick look at Olivia's wide eyes showed she was thinking along very similar lines. They took a seat on the sofa closest to the glass doors that led out onto a wide area that passed for a backyard: swimming pool included. Zoe sat down in an armchair opposite. As she brushed a stray strand of hair behind her ear, the diamond ring on her left hand almost blinded Olivia.

"What can I do for you detectives?" Her voice was surprisingly steady despite her physical demeanour.

"We're just interested in your association with Mr Quant."

She looked at Elliot wearily, "you mean did I sleep with him?"

Olivia shifted slightly at her abruptness, "we heard about the rumours. Was there any truth behind them?"

Zoe sighed heavily, pulling at her robe again, "we've always been friends." She wiped at her eye with a crumpled tissue that she had in her robe's sleeve, "about two weeks ago, my fiancé and I had a fight. He left early, I stayed behind late. So did Dennis. We broke into Oliver's liquor cabinet and drank ourselves silly. His relationship with his wife was over; mine was on a knife's edge. We were both lonely. It just…happened. Only once."

Olivia nodded empathetically, "does your fiancé know?"

Zoe nodded, "I finally mustered up the courage to tell him yesterday afternoon."

"Yesterday afternoon?" Olivia repeated, looking quickly at Elliot. He kept his gaze directed at Zoe who had leant over at the box of tissue to blow her nose.

She turned back to them, "He was so angry, he stormed out. Came back this morning reeking of tequila and cigarette smoke," she sighed again, leaning her arms on her thighs while cradling her face in her hands. She mumbled something unintelligible.

"What's that?"

Zoe looked up, "he said he was going to kill him. I didn't think he'd actually do it."


	4. The Club

**Disclaimer: Dick Wolf owns and will continue to own every SVU character. **Maybe he'll lend them to me for my birthday?

**Author's notes:** I hope you guys are enjoying this. Maybe another two or three chapters…we'll see. This is a relatively short chapter. But I'm sure you'll forgive me. It gets very interesting from here. Enjoy! Picks up where chapter 3 left off.

"Detectives, right on time," the secretary greeted them as they entered the foyer, "Mr Bertrand can see you now."

"Like he had a choice," Elliot whispered to Olivia as they approached the office door. It opened, and handsome man in his forties gestured for them to come in.

"Detectives. I'm Oliver Bertrand, how can I help you?" He asked jovially, shaking their hands as they passed him. The stale smell of tobacco still lingered, but it wasn't like Bertrand hadn't tried to mask it; the aroma of aftershave that filled the room as they approached his desk was almost over-powering. They sat in the chairs he offered opposite his desk as he made his way to the seat behind it.

"I'm sure you know why we're here?" Elliot asked, crossing his legs.

Bertrand reclined in his chair slightly, "I can guess"

Elliot smirked, irked by this guy's flippant attitude, "we heard you found out about Zoe's intra-work relations."

Bertrand's eyes darkened and he sat forward slowly, "I heard about what happened two weeks ago. She merely confirmed it yesterday afternoon when she told me"

"You got angry", Olivia said, narrowing her eyes; it wasn't a question.

Bertrand nodded, measuring Olivia up, "At first," he conceded, "she betrayed our trust; and it obviously hurt."

"Until you got rid of the problem," Elliot replied in a clipped tone.

Bertrand raised his eyebrows, "I didn't kill the bastard. I thought about it, I'll admit it. But last night I put my energy into something else."

"Meaning?"

Bertrand rubbed his temple with his fingers, exhaling loudly, "I spent the night at Kitty Galore on Broadway."

Elliot snorted before he could stop himself, "a strip club? How original."

Bertrand folded his arms, "not that I have to explain myself to you, but it's not just a strip club. Maybe to the poorer man, but for those with money, you can have all your desires realised," he finished, raising his eyebrow suggestively.

Olivia fought the urge to roll her eyes, "when did you get there?"

Bertrand drew his lip in thoughtfully, "around 6pm. Didn't get home until after 1am. I didn't kill Dennis, but he got what he deserved."

Olivia and Elliot rose from their chairs, "we'll keep in touch," Elliot said, hoping it sounded something like a threat.

"I look forward to it," Bertrand quipped, rising from behind his desk and following them to his office door, "oh, detectives!" Bertrand called out. They turned at the hallway entrance, "tell Foxy I said hi."

His door snapped shut, and Elliot and Olivia began down the long hallway. Olivia voiced her disgust, "What is it with this place and the jerk-offs that work here?"

Elliot laughed, "I don't know. But I can't wait to tell John that he and Fin get to canvass a strip-club."

**000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000**

"I hate these places," Munch whined, as he and Fin negotiated their way through the crowd of rowdy men.

"Who you wanna talk to first? The cop or the nurse?" Fin asked sarcastically, gesturing the strippers writhing on the podiums. They turned their attention back to looking for a hallway that would lead to the manager's office.

"Can I help you gentlemen?" A voice to the Detective's right, belonging to a man dressed sharply in a suit, got their attention.

"Do we look so much like cops?" Munch asked sardonically.

The man in the suit gave a smile that failed to reach his eyes, laughing nervously, "we aren't doing anything illegal here Detectives."

Munch realised his unease, "we never said you were. And we're not from Vice."

The man visibly relaxed, "I'm Mr Zachary. I own this club."

Fin pulled out the photo of Bertrand from his jacket pocket, "you recognise this man?"

Zachary took the photo, and nodded, "that's Mr Bertrand. One of our best clients" He handed the photo back to Fin.

"When was he here last?" Fin asked, putting the photo back into his pocket.

"Wednesday night." He gestured for them to follow him into his office, "he was here from around 6pm. He had his last drink well after midnight."

"Is there anyone else who can verify that?" Munch asked.

Zachary pulled a book from a shelf behind his desk. He opened it, running his finger down a list of names.

"Keeping tabs?"

Zachary looked up smirking, "gotta protect my girls," he went back to the list, "…Bertrand. Here we are. He spent the night with Foxy and Renee."

"They here?"

Zachary nodded, "Foxy's with a client, but Renee's out back getting ready for her act."

**000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000**

"Yeah, that's Oliver Bertrand. Great tipper." Renee said, adjusting herself in her maid's uniform.

Fin put the picture away, "what time was he here?"

Renee pursed her lips as she applied lipstick, "well Foxy was done with him at about 8, then I took over. Kept him happy til about 1 in the morning," she answered proudly.

Munch and Fin shared a weary look, "thanks for your help."

She turned from the mirror, "you're not staying for the show?" she pouted at them.

"Uh, no," Munch said uncomfortably, "but thanks for asking."

They exited the building, avoiding the even rowdier crowd that had gathered at the base of the stage. The lights dimmed, just as they got out the door.

Munch finally gave into Fin's piercing glare, "what?"

"Thanks for asking?" Fin exclaimed incredulously, "what are you? 12?"

**000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000**

Friday, 8.30am

"One tall coffee; black and one tall herbal tea. Two sugars in each," Elliot recited to the man behind the portable coffee cart.

"Five dollars buddy," the man said happily, rubbing his hands from the cold.

Elliot dug through his pocket for the money, "keep the change," he said, scooping the orders from the bench. He joined Olivia who was waiting for him to the side.

"Mmm," Olivia moaned, inhaling the scent of her tea, "just what I need."

Elliot put his arm around her shoulder and pouted, "I thought I was what you needed?"

Olivia laughed, sipping from her cup, "yeah, I need you to buy me my tea."

Elliot chuckled, taking a sip from his own cup.

"You jealous of the relationship I have with my tea?" Olivia asked cheekily.

Elliot pretended to think about it for a moment, before shaking his head, "no, not really"

They side-stepped two children running down the path, "not really?" Olivia replied, sounded almost indignant.

Elliot smiled, before leaning down and kissing her softly, "because it doesn't get to do that."

Olivia's smile widened, "no, it definitely doesn't."

His laughter filled the air as they made their way to the precinct.

**000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000**

"Where's ours?" Fin asked, as Elliot and Olivia settled behind their desks.

"Where's your what?" Elliot asked, winking at Olivia. She smiled as she turned on her computer.

Elliot leaned back in his chair, resting his outstretched legs on the edge of his desk, grinning like a Cheshire cat.

Fin scowled, "you leave me with this sludge and you go ahead and buy good quality," he turned to Munch, "I've been your partner almost eight years and you never buy me coffee."

Munch frowned, "I resent you calling it sludge. It's just the brand we've got. And what's stopping you from going out and buying coffee yourself?"

"I'm poor John, you know that"

"And I still pay alimony to all my ex-wives. You can buy a cup of coffee."

The opening of Cragen's door stopped the argument before it could continue. He strode towards their desks, "Morales has come through. Elliot, Olivia, get to computer crimes," he turned to Munch and Fin, "Casey needs you two in court, so settle the differences and get moving."

"Maybe Casey'll buy you some coffee Fin?" Elliot teased as he and Olivia rose from their chairs.

Before Munch could respond, Cragen pointed to the door, "Go."

**000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000**

"Hey," Morales said, looking up from his computer as Elliot and Olivia entered the room, "I have something that might help you."

He led them towards the back of the room to where a large computer screen was set up, "we got the security tapes from the store next door."

Elliot came up behind Morales' right shoulder, "what does it show?"

"Take a look," Morales said, moving to the side to allow the two to watch.

The night-vision of the camera was directed at the entrance to the store, and invariably showed the alley between the building and hotel, as well as the hotel's entrance. At the moment, all it was recording was an empty street, save for a cat that wandered slowly out of frame and into the alley. It remained that way until a male came into view. Elliot and Olivia unconsciously moved closer to the screen. The man was facing away from the camera and tripped on a raised bit of concrete, forcing something to fall out of his grasp.

"Is that a gun?"

Morales nodded, "It's _the _gun."

They watched as the male retrieved the weapon, shoving it into his pocket before darting down the alley.

"Do we get a look at his face?"

Morales remained impassive, "just keep looking."

Not ten minutes later, the man came back out from the alley, before turning directly towards the camera and running down the street. Morales rewound the tape, pausing it on the man's face.

"About five minutes later, your hooker comes out of the hotel entrance in tears. That's your guy," Morales said, pointing at the stilled image on the screen.

"Look familiar to you?" Olivia asked Elliot.


	5. Family Ties

**Disclaimer: Dick Wolf owns and will continue to own every SVU character. **If I can have Elliot for a day I promise to share him with Olivia….

**Author's notes: **Whether or not I continue this for another one or three chapters depends on how many reviews I get. If I get enough I'll expand for another three chapters or so….which more E/O. If I don't get enough, I'll cut it at the next chapter…which considerably less E/O. So R&R and we can all live happily ever after…the end…lol.

Friday, 9.45am

Sylvia Quant looked very surprised to see Elliot and Olivia on her doorstep; her delicately shaped eyebrows rose in curiosity as she greeted them, "Detectives?"

Olivia held the photo Morales printed out for them from the tape in front of Quant's face. As her eyes fell upon it, her face paled considerably and she studiously avoided their angry stares, "recognise him?" Olivia asked, leaning her face towards Quant's turned one.

Without a reply, Quant moved to the side, allowing room for Olivia and Elliot to move past her and into the house. They waited for her to close the door behind them, before she led them into the sitting room where they had first questioned her.

"You have a nasty habit of lying, Mrs Quant," Elliot commented in what came across as a purely conversational tone. Underneath, Olivia could see, was anger coursing through his veins. This woman was incredible.

Quant sat down opposite the pair, letting out a heavy breath, "I didn't lie to you."

Olivia gave an exasperated laugh, "omitting and lying are the same thing in this instance. You never told us you had a son."

"But you never gave me any reason to disclose how many children I had, it didn't seem very pertinent to the case to me," Quant huffed, regaining her composure.

Elliot and Olivia exchanged a frustrated look, "you purposely avoided mentioning you had a son. Did you know he was involved?"

Quant shook her head emphatically, "he's a good boy. He lives with his girlfriend. He studies at NYU. He didn't do this."

Elliot looked around, taking in the photos of the family on the fireplace behind Quant, "is your son here now?"

Quant paused, and then shook her head, "no, he's studying at the moment. Lectures all day…you know how it is…" she trailed off.

Olivia leant forward, "Mrs Quant, if you're lying to us…"

Quant looked up quickly, "I'm telling the truth!" she exclaimed, "I'm about to bury my husband and now you want me to play a part in persecuting my son. I'm sorry if I seem a little reluctant," Quant rose from her sitting position, stalking over to the liquor cabinet. She pulled a bottle from the shelf, pouring a generous amount of amber liquid into a glass. "You have no idea what it's like to see your family fall apart before your eyes. You sit there and judge me," she paused, taking a swig, "I'm handling this as well as I can," she finished in a hiss, as the alcohol burnt her throat.

"Mrs Quant," Elliot said softly, joining Quant's side at the cabinet. He refused the glass of alcohol she offered him, "I have four kids. I went through a divorce. I know what it's like to feel responsible for it all"

Quant looked at Elliot sadly, "you take my son away, I have nothing left," she whispered.

"You have your daughter," Elliot offered.

Quant gave a derisive snort, taking another gulp of her drink, "she hates me. She's literally counting down the days until she's old enough to move out. My 'boyfriend' is married and is no way inclined to leave his perfect wife. All I see," a sob hitched in her chest, "is the bottom of the bottle"

Elliot shared a look with Olivia as he sighed, "I thought the demise of my marriage was the end too. I never knew anything other than being married with kids, so it left a huge hole that I thought would never be filled. I thought it would eventually get so big it would just swallow me up. But it doesn't have to be that way"

Quant put the glass down with a shaking hand, watching Elliot warily, "really?"

Elliot nodded, "What happened in the past is just that; the past. There's no denying that it will always be a part of you, that's why you are who you are now. You have two children that love you, whether they tell you that explicitly or not. My own children aren't that forthcoming with their feelings, but I know they love me. I wouldn't change a thing. You just have to move forward,"

Quant sniffed, "what if there's nothing at the end?"

Elliot shared a pointed look with Olivia, "I thought that way too. But you know what? I found something better."

Olivia gasped. Quant didn't hear, but Elliot had. Ever professional however, they turned their attention back to Quant, who had slumped her shoulders in resignation, "I don't know what to do anymore"

Elliot captured her unfocused gaze, "you can start by telling the truth"

Quant nodded, "my son was here during the week on break. I didn't see him all Wednesday," Quant stopped as she unsteadily made her way back to the chair opposite Olivia, sitting down. Elliot took his position back next to Olivia, who gave him a small smile. Quant continued, "We have two guns registered to our family. My 9mm was missing Wednesday morning when I was looking for my painkillers, and I had assumed that Dennis had taken it, even though I was sure I saw it Sunday night. But I haven't been thinking straight lately," she gestured weakly at the liquor cabinet, "So I wasn't certain."

"Where can we find your son?" Olivia asked quietly. Mrs Quant raised her eyes from the floor and held Olivia's gaze for a moment. The sadness in them made Olivia's heart constrict slightly.

"He and his girlfriend have an apartment just off NYU. I'll get the address for you."

**000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000**

"Joseph Quant. NYPD. We have a warrant for your arrest!" Elliot repeated as he pounded the door with his fist.

Olivia pressed her ear to the door, "I hear movement," she said, as someone on the other side removed the dead-lock.

The door swung open and they were greeted by a tired looking female, "can I help you?"

Olivia held out her badge, "we're looking for Joseph Quant"

She rolled her eyes, "yeah? Well he's not here"

Elliot shifted impatiently, "do you know where he is?"

She looked at them angrily, "no," she replied shortly, before slamming the door on their faces.

Elliot let out a frustrated sigh before banging on the door with both fists, "open up! Or I _will_ break down your door!"

The door swung open again, Elliot's fists pounding empty air, "he's not here," she repeated.

"We've already established that." Elliot replied with a hint of sarcasm, "so where is he?"

She shrugged, looking away uncomfortably.

"Look," Olivia said, taking a step towards her, "we can arrest you for obstructing an investigation. We don't want to do that. If you don't tell us where he is or if you lie to us, then that's exactly what we'll have to do."

She looked at Olivia, turning her chin up in defiance, "well that's what you're going to have to do"

Elliot sighed again, "why do they always make it so hard?"

**000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000**

"I don't know where he is"

Her repetitiveness was getting wearisome. Madison Green was just like a lot of young adults; they thought they were invincible and that they had nobody to answer to but themselves. Despite her voracious ranting about the swine-like nature of New York's finest in the back seat of the squad car, since she'd arrived at the precinct she had been relatively sedate, sitting calmly behind the table in the interrogation room. While Elliot seemed composed with his arms folded and leaning back, Olivia was quickly losing patience with Madison; who was now picking at an invisible spot on her fingernail.

Olivia cocked her head to the side, "why are you protecting him?"

Madison looked up, put off slightly by Olivia's change in interrogative direction. She opened her mouth to answer, but nothing came out, so she settled with shaking her head instead.

Elliot shifted slightly to Olivia's right, "he's a murderer," he said quietly.

Madison shook her head harder, "he's not. He's a good man."

"He murdered his father in cold blood, that doesn't make him a good man. It makes him a dangerous man. We need to help him before he hurts himself"

Madison had stopped shaking her head, but tears had begun to fall steadily down her cheek, "he loved his father too much," she sobbed, "too much," she finished quietly, more to herself than to the other occupants of the room; both within and behind the two-way.

Elliot shared a quick look with Olivia, "what's that supposed to mean?"

Madison gave an uneven shrug, now playing with a dent in the table with her fingernail. The wood splintered where she began to dig her nail under it. Olivia worried for a second she might draw blood.

"Madison?" Her hand stopped, but she didn't look up, "Madison?"

She looked up, the sadness palpable, "his father was killing his mother by sleeping with all those women. He was killing his family. What kind of man does that to those he's supposed to love and protect? And on top of that he was going to leave. Joseph wouldn't survive without his father. He had to keep him somehow."

"So he killed him to keep him?" Olivia asked, raising a sceptical eyebrow.

Madison didn't respond, she was now more interested on the spot behind the wall between Elliot and Olivia's heads. They remained quiet, watching her. Just when Olivia thought about breaking the silence, Madison took a deep, steadying breath, "If he didn't help him, he'dve gone forever. He needed to keep him close."

"How did Joseph know where his father was going to be?"

"I work at the electronics shop next door when I'm not studying. I saw him and that slut go into the hotel next door."

"You do realise that if you don't tell us where he is, you can be charged as an accessory?" Olivia said.

Madison shook her head, before burying it in her arms on the table. There was a tap on the window, so Olivia and Elliot rose and headed for the adjoining room where their Captain and Huang were waiting.

"She won't give him up," Elliot said, running a hand down his tired face, "he could be in Canada for all we know"

Huang didn't look convinced, "not likely. If he killed his father to keep him close, he wouldn't just up and leave and put that much physical distance between them." Huang turned to watch Madison through the glass, "I think he'll be somewhere close, but far enough away to keep attention from himself," he pointed at Madison, "and she knows where that place is"

They were interrupted by a rushed knock at the door. Munch entered the room swiftly, "just got a call from Sylvia Quant"

A heaviness settled on the room, "what happened John?"

"You want the good news or the bad news?"

"John!" Cragen snapped.

"Ok," Munch said, looking disappointed, "family has two guns registered. One's in evidence, and the other was meant to be in Quant's drawer full of pharmaceuticals. Her dear son dropped by this morning, and now it's missing."

The Detectives and Cragen turned to Huang who nodded, not waiting for the question, "It's very likely that he might consider suicide. Maybe the pain will be too much, or he might realise the magnitude of his actions. Either way, he'll be more of a danger to himself than others, but you need to find him," he turned to Cragen, "now"

Elliot looked at Olivia, "and we need to get her to talk"

Elliot opened the door quickly, walking swiftly into the room, Olivia hot on his heels.

Madison visibly recoiled as Elliot strode through the room towards her. He sat on the edge of the table, on her left. Olivia knew the drill, so she held back, standing to the side, almost in the shadows of the interrogation room.

"Madison," Elliot started quietly, "Joseph is a sick man. He's not well. We need your help," he paused, "_he_ needs your help"

Madison gave Elliot a confused look, "what are you talking about?"

"He told you where he was going?"

Madison looked down, refusing to answer.

Elliot lowered his head to her ear level, "well, he made a pit-stop"

Madison's head turned to the side in surprise, listening, "where?"

"His mother's house"

Madison looked even more confused, "he has no reason to go there"

"Well he did. And now he's armed," Madison's eyes widened at this, "and we're worried for his safety. You need to tell us where he is."

Tears began to shine in her eyes again, "he promised he wouldn't do that to himself,"

Olivia sensed her opportunity and stepped out of the shadows and sat opposite Madison with what she hoped was an understanding look on her face, "sweetheart. We know you love him. But he needs help. And we can't help him if he's dead. Neither can you."

Madison stared at Olivia without really looking at her.

"Madison?"

A tear rolled silently down her cheek, "Rockaway Beach," she answered in an almost detached and faraway voice, "my family has a beach-house"

She continued to stare at the wall, long after Elliot and Olivia had left the room.

**Now press the little blue button below and it'll make me smile…grins**


	6. Trauma

**Disclaimer: Dick Wolf owns and will continue to own every SVU character. **I wish I could visit the set for one day…that'd be soo coooool!

**Author's notes: **Please Read and Review if you get the chance, I love hearing your feedback. I really want to know whether or not you guys are enjoying this!! In chapter seven the action really starts to pick up, so this is setting the scene for what's to come!

Olivia set the siren and flashing red light on the sedan's dashboard as they sped toward the turnoff for Rockaway Beach.

Elliot could see Munch and Fin in his rear-view mirror, "looks like they're fighting again"

Olivia turned from the window, "who?"

Elliot tilted his head back, indicating the blue sedan behind them. Olivia turned and saw Munch, behind the wheel, gesturing awkwardly with one hand as he talked animatedly. Fin, despite his calm exterior, kept pointing to the road in front in a vain attempt to keep Munch's attention on his driving. Behind the squabbling duo sat Huang, with his eyes tightly closed.

Olivia snorted, "Poor Doc."

Elliot shrugged with indifference as he turned into a side-street, "he chose to ride with them,"

Olivia chuckled, pulling the walkie-talkie from its holder, "How you holding up doc?"

The radio crackled, and then Fin's voice answered, "He's fine. But John is a crazy old man." In the background they could hear Munch protest, and then Fin argue back.

Huang must have wrestled the radio from Fin because it was his voice they heard next, "on the way back, I'm riding with you two."

Elliot and Olivia laughed. Elliot pulled Olivia's wrist holding the radio towards his mouth, "you sure you can handle my driving?" He briskly turned the next corner one-handed as if to prove his point. He winked at Olivia, who rolled her eyes.

"I know you can handle me," he said cheekily. Olivia's face flushed as she grinned at him.

"You know I can still hear you," Huang's voice said, interrupting Olivia's reply.

Olivia laughed again, "Deal with it"

It was silent for a minute, "on second thought, I might just go back with Munch and Fin."

Olivia, still grinning, placed the radio in its rightful place, pulling the map out instead. "Ok, we need to take the next right. House is the second from the left at the end of the street"

Elliot nodded, not taking his eyes off the road, "aye, aye capt'n"

Olivia ignored his jibe, choosing instead to place her hand on Elliot's leg. He pretended to lose control of the car, swerving slightly, "Elliot!"

Snorting, Elliot glanced back in the rear-view mirror, "seems like the storm's passed"

Olivia turned, while Munch was still talking, he had stopped moving his hands around. Even Huang had opened his eyes. She turned back to face the front, "for now"

Olivia flicked the switch to the siren as they pulled into the house's street, hoping not to stress Joseph out any further than he already was. Elliot turned into the driveway next door, narrowly avoiding a stray cat. He flipped the latch for the trunk as he exited the car, snapping his door closed behind him.

He joined Olivia at the open trunk, where she was strapping on her Kevlar vest. She handed Elliot's his, as she checked her gun's clip, before adjusting it back into her holster. Hopefully, it wouldn't have to come to that.

As she waited for Elliot to do the same, she watched as Munch conferred with Cragen, who had arrived with a bus and some back-up.

"Ready?" She asked, brushing her hands down the front of her vest nervously. Elliot nodded, closing the trunk and following Olivia to where their Captain was waiting.

"You're going in unwired," Cragen said, as they joined him. They both nodded, "Munch and Fin have got your backs," he inclined his head to where Munch and Fin were making their way to the back of the house, "Doc reckons he may have regressed back to his childhood and that he won't be very rational."

They began towards the house, "Doc also thinks Elliot should do the talking," they stopped at the pathway to the stairs, "you're a potential father figure. Be gentle and understanding. No sudden movements. We want everyone out alive."

Elliot and Olivia nodded, before turning and deftly scaling the steps to the front porch. Olivia reached her hand out to the door, surprised to find it unlocked. Elliot nodded, pulling his gun from his holster as Olivia pushed the door open. They entered the house slowly, Elliot with his gun trained on the room in front of them. Olivia followed after Elliot into the foyer, pulling her own gun out. The two uniforms that followed them inside followed Elliot's orders and separated to the left and right, leaving Elliot and Olivia to go up the stairs. They waited until the uniforms reappeared at the base of the stairs – both shaking their heads. He had to be somewhere above them.

"You two," Olivia whispered, "stay down here in case something happens and we need back-up," the officer's nodded, as Olivia and Elliot began up the stairs. The house was eerily silent, the sound of waves crashing and their combined breathing most audible. They reached the landing, taking in their surroundings. There were three doorways; two to their left, one to the right. The one on the right and the one on the left at the end of the corridor were open, but the one closest was closed.

Olivia turned to Elliot, who nodded. They walked quietly to the door, the floor creaking slightly under their feet. They heard movement beyond the door.

Elliot put his ear against the hard wood, "Joseph?"

There was silence, a loud thud, and then the unmistakable sound of a gun firing.

Olivia's eyes widened. Elliot put his hand on the knob, while Olivia had her gun trained on the door. Elliot counted silently to three before he threw it open, then mirrored Olivia's posture facing the room. They scanned the bedroom, noticing nothing immediately out of the ordinary.

"Elliot," Olivia said, nodding her head at the foot that was poking from the end of the bed. Elliot re-holstered his gun and followed Olivia further into the room.

"Call for a medic," Olivia said, kicking the gun away from Joseph's slack grip. She re-holstered her own gun, and knelt down to Joseph's side, feeling for a pulse.

Elliot pulled out the radio, "Cap, we need a medic up here now. Quant took the shot, but it looks like it grazed his head."

Their Captain's voice crackled over the radio, "coming up now Elliot, you guys can come down when they get there"

Elliot replaced the radio on the back of his belt, kneeling next to Olivia who had removed a pillowcase and had it pressed against Joseph's forehead.

"Serious?" Elliot asked, leaning over Joseph's body.

Olivia shook her head, "not really, but it was enough to render him unconscious."

The medics burst into the room with a portable gurney. Elliot and Olivia rose and moved out of the way as they attended to Joseph's injury. Olivia pulled a bag out of her coat pocket, bagging to gun. "We should head down"

**00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000**

"He's going to make a full recovery," Cragen relayed to the detectives after he got off the phone with the hospital.

"We got a uniform posted on him?" Casey asked, perching herself on the edge of Olivia's desk.

Cragen nodded, "you can book him when he gets out"

"Well, you guys did a good job. Call me when you get any news on his state," Casey said, picking up her briefcase and turning towards the door.

"Counsellor?" A voice from the entrance to the squad room asked.

Casey nodded, "I'm Selena Trollows, Joseph Quant's attorney," she held out her hand. Casey shook it reluctantly, "is there somewhere we can talk?"

Casey turned to Cragen, who nodded, "you can use my office"

"Thanks," Casey said as she passed him.

They watched as the door closed. Olivia turned to Cragen, "what are we going to do with Madison?"

Cragen shrugged, "let her go. We have nothing to keep her on"

Munch nodded, volunteering to release her from her holding cell.

Olivia noticed Elliot's blank stare from his reclined position in his chair. "You ok?" She asked, as she settled herself next to his elbow.

Elliot gave himself a mental shake of the head, smiling up at Olivia, "yeah, just thinking"

"About?"

"Just what it takes to make somebody think it's ok to kill just to keep someone close."

Huang overheard and offered his opinion, "some of us have a lower threshold when it comes to our limits; those that are more mentally fragile can be more susceptible to acting irrationally – they think they're doing the right thing. Joseph is obviously one of those people," he looked at Cragen, "I'd like to talk to him, see where he is emotionally"

Cragen nodded, "you'll have to ask Casey, it's up to her now"

Just then, Cragen's office door swung open and Joseph's attorney marched past the group with a smile. They turned their attention back to the door as a frowning Casey stalked out holding the unmistakable blue paperwork of a motion.

Casey held it up, infuriated, "they're arguing he was suffering from Post-Traumatic Stress Syndrome," she turned to Huang, "can they do that?"

Huang chewed his lip thoughtfully, "unfortunately yes. His actions don't seem like one of a rational thinking person; his attempted suicide would back up the motion"

"But wouldn't his attempted suicide indicate guilt?" Elliot asked, "and the security tape we've got as well as his girlfriend's admission she called him shows it was premeditated."

Huang nodded in understanding, "that's all well and good, but all Quant has to do is give a sob story to the jury about how his father's absence left a gap that affected his mental wellbeing. He'll say he was feeling so lost and guilty at what he did that he couldn't take it."

Casey sighed, "And a jury will be stupid enough to buy it. Look, I have a motion hearing with Petrovsky in an hour. Will you give a psych evaluation if I push for it with Petrovsky?"

Huang smiled, "of course. I was going to talk to him anyway."

Casey gave a short nod of her head, pulling up her briefcase and leaving the squad room briskly.

Cragen turned to Elliot and Olivia, "keep an eye on the girlfriend. We may need to twist her arm if push comes to shove"

**000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000**

"Your honour," Casey said, with her hands on her hips, "this is a cock-and-bull motion that the defence are using to mask a cold-blooded killer. If you allow this now, where does it stop? I could very easily leave this room, kill Ms Trollow and argue that it was because you affected my mental wellbeing when you allowed this motion to go to trial"

Petrovsky looked mildly offended, "I don't think that it's your decision to make. You need to rely on a jury to see through any façade that you think he may be putting on," she paused, "and I would hope you'd restrain yourself from any sort of rash behaviour. Motion granted."

Joseph's attorney raised a cocky eyebrow at Casey, "you're more than welcome to have your shrink evaluate him. He'll realise that Joseph is a sick man that loves his father. He wasn't responsible for his actions Ms Novak"

Petrovsky interrupted her, "Ms Trollows we've already established that as his defence, wait until trial to make your argument. Keep it out of my chambers. I'm ordering your client to appear at Bellevue this afternoon for his evaluation, by FBI psychiatrist, Dr. George Huang. That's all"

Casey exited the room dejectedly, flipping out her phone, "Hi. George? It's Casey. I need you for this afternoon at Bellevue. Ok, thanks. See you there"

**000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000**

"Tell me about your father, Joseph"

Joseph Quant was the spitting image of his father Dennis. He had closely cropped blonde hair and the same sharp blue eyes as his sister, Krystal. There was an unmistakable emotion behind those them, but whether it was guilt and remorse, Huang was uncertain. Joseph was sitting opposite Huang quietly, fiddling with his hands.

"He was a good guy," he said without looking up.

Huang remained impassive, "even though he was cheating on your mother?"

Joseph's eyes darkened somewhat, "she drove him away. He wouldn't have had to do the things he did if she wasn't such an alcoholic. Stupid cow"

Huang was surprised by the venom behind his words. "Take me through Wednesday evening, Joseph"

Joseph sighed, "I haven't been feeling well this past week. I was staying at home with mum, and it all just came to a head. I can't really remember what happened, you know?"

Huang, narrowed his eyes slightly, then nodded, "and then?"

"Well, all I remember was a call from Madison, and then…nothing. It all goes a little black, you know?"

Huang chewed the inside of his cheek, "explain the feeling to me"

"I just…remember getting the gun from the drawer, and then getting the call…and then running down the alley away from the hotel. That's it"

Huang eyed the recording device to his left and pretended not to notice Joseph's slip of the tongue. He made a note of it. It wasn't completely binding evidence, his attorney could convince anyone that his mind wasn't in the right place, but it was enough to prove Joseph was hiding something more.

"You have blackouts like this often?" Huang asked, watching as Joseph continued to studiously avoided Huang's unwavering stare.

"Ummm, I'm not really sure, you know?" Joseph was getting increasingly uncomfortable.

Huang persevered, trying to catch him in his own net, "has there ever been a time when you lost large blocks of time. When you've been in one place one moment. And then all of a sudden another?"

Joseph nodded, a little too emphatically. "When Joseph?"

"Umm, like, the other day."

"The day before Wednesday?"

Joseph nodded, "tell me about it, Joseph"

"I was in my house, and then I just…wasn't," Joseph trailed off.

Joseph was purposefully avoiding answering Huang's questions. That was all Huang needed to hear.

After twenty more minutes of trying to gauge Joseph's mental status, Huang had heard enough, and joined Casey and Cragen in his office back at the precinct.

"So what's the deal George?" Cragen asked, biting into his sandwich.

"It's all an act," Huang started, "he told me what he thought I wanted to hear. His girlfriend is studying Psychology at NYU. You learn about the affects of various syndromes in your first year. PTSS is the most common, and the easiest to fake the attributes of."

Casey nodded, "so he's pretending? But we have no way of proving otherwise"

Huang turned to Cragen, "I think his father knew something about him that he's hiding"

"Something being?"

Huang shrugged, "how much do you know about Joseph? Apart from what his mother and girlfriend have told you?"

Casey and Cragen read his mind, "I'll get a search warrant," Casey said, leaving the office.

"And I'll call Elliot and Olivia"


	7. Confess

**Disclaimer: Dick Wolf owns and will continue to own every SVU character. **SVU is a major part of my world….what am I saying major…IT IS MY WORLD…woot!

**Author's notes: **Please, please Read and Review if you get the chance…see now I'm grovelling! I'll leave you hanging if you don't! Are you scared? Well you should be….mwahahaha! In all seriousness, this may be the second last chapter, so review if you please! This is the chapter where it gets very involved and the action picks up a little…one more chapter to go. Oh, and kiddies…the first few paragraphs…umm…Elliot and Olivia were jut exercising…promise!

Olivia gave a satisfied moan as Elliot rolled over to the side. She grinned brilliantly at him as she threw an arm around his middle and a leg around his own possessively.

"Give me space woman," Elliot joked, brushing a stray strand of damp hair off her forehead.

Olivia laughed pressing her lips to his neck, "you love it", a kiss to the bottom of his jaw.

Elliot sighed contentedly as he closed his eyes, enjoying the feeling of Olivia's nails gently raking the muscles on his torso, as she kissed wherever her lips could reach from her position against him. All they wanted to do now was sleep for the next twenty years.

Obviously, their captain had other ideas, and the sound of Olivia's phone penetrated the atmosphere that they had quickly become absorbed in.

She reached across Elliot's body to her nightstand, "Liv, I can't breathe," Elliot whispered as Olivia lay half on him in her attempt to reach for her phone.

She ignored him, flipping open her phone, "Benson"

Despite Cragen being in the precinct and therefore a good few miles away, she unconsciously pulled the sheets to cover herself as though he was in the room with them, "ok captain, we'll be right there"

She hung up, capturing Elliot's lips in a searing kiss, before reluctantly pulling herself out of bed, Elliot following suit, "what was that about?"

"Cragen wants us to meet Casey at Joseph Quant's apartment ASAP"

**000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000**

"This better be good counsellor," Elliot joked as he and Olivia joined her and Huang in the corridor of Quant's apartment building. The uniform at the door had been stationed there since Joseph had been arrested and Madison had been taken away.

"Sorry to interrupt," Casey said with a knowing look at Olivia's glowing face, "but George thinks that Joseph really is using PTSS as a lame excuse in hiding something else"

Elliot and Olivia furrowed their brows in confusion, "what do you mean?" Elliot asked, as Olivia opened the door to the apartment.

"I evaluated Joseph about an hour ago and he sounded like he'd been trained to answer questions associated with the symptoms of PTSS"

"Madison," Elliot said, shaking his head, "she'd know exactly what characteristics he'd need to display to get away with it"

Huang nodded, smiling, "good work detective"

Elliot patted his shoulder as he walked past him, "I'll be after your job next Doc"

Huang pretended to look affronted, "I'm irreplaceable"

Elliot snorted. They passed the threshold into Quant and Green's apartment which was the polar opposite of his family home. Rather than feeling dwarfed by the huge expanse of the rooms, the apartment was much more cosy; not so much cluttered as organised. Papers littered the sitting room and dining room tables, and books spilled out of the bookcases that were in practically every room of the house.

"Elliot," Olivia called out. He followed the sound of her voice to where she was standing in their bedroom. Olivia was holding up a book in her gloved hand, "bed time reading?" She asked sarcastically, showing him the book's title and where it had been open to.

"'Trauma's of the mind'," Elliot read aloud, sharing an incredulous look with Olivia, "bag it"

Huang followed them into the bedroom, taking the bagged book in his hands. He raised an eyebrow, "interesting,"

Elliot turned to him, "what exactly are we looking for?"

Huang gave an uneven shrug, "something that connects him to his father. Letters? Notes? He killed his father because his father either knew something about him that had extreme consequences, or he did it because he knew something about his father that had similar ramifications. We just need some sort of trail"

Olivia began sifting through Joseph's nightstand drawer, shifting through a myriad of scrap pieces of somewhat irrelevant papers and some personal affects. She got to the bottom of the draw, without finding anything of importance, "damn," she said under her breath.

Before she could move away, Elliot leant forward and tapped the drawer with his knuckles. The sound was hollow, and Olivia smiled at the look Elliot had on his face, "smartypants," Olivia chided gently.

"I have four kids. I remember Maureen had a hidden compartment in her drawer with photos of nearly naked boys she shared with Kathleen," Elliot said, jimmying the base of the drawer until it came loose. A notebook with a leather cover lay on-top of dozens of wads of hundred dollar bills. Elliot let out a low whistle, "there's got to be tens of thousands of dollars in here"

Olivia opened up the notebook, "it's got a list of contacts in here. Some appointments," she relayed, rifling through the pages, "nothing specific. Just last names and locations"

"We'll bag it and analyse it closer back at the precinct," Elliot said, holding a bag out for her to drop it into.

Elliot made to leave, but stopped at the feeling of Olivia's hand on his arm, "Elliot, look," she breathed, pushing aside a stack of cash. It was a mini-tape; the sort used in recording devices, more specifically, answering machines. She lifted it out with her index finger and thumb, "looks like there's something recorded on it, it hasn't been rewound"

Elliot turned to Huang in the doorway, "you think this is it?"

Huang nodded, "I think what you need to help in finding the truth will be on this tape"

Elliot snorted, "Cryptic much?"

Huang rolled his eyes, leaving to join Casey at the front door. After Olivia and Elliot finished their thorough search of the premises, they joined them outside the apartment.

"We'll keep you on this for the next few days, someone will relieve you in four hours," Elliot told the uniform at the door, passing on his Captain's orders.

"I wonder what's on the tape?" Olivia asked, as they entered the car.

"Probably the last conversation Joseph ever had with his father"

**000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000**

Huang was right about the people that would be on the tape; despite the recording being quite short, the argument Joseph and his father were involved in was extremely heated.

Joseph had answered his phone, but not before the machine had picked up the call, allowing it to continue recording. For the first twenty seconds the conversation had been friendly; the sort of conversation any father and son would engage in. Dennis Quant however, changed tactics somewhat and the tone changed when he had pleaded with his son to "get out before he got into trouble". What that trouble was, was never made apparent, but Dennis had mentioned a group by the name of "the Cronies". It wasn't long before Joseph tired of his father's tirade, and had finally been offered an ultimatum, to hand himself in, or Dennis would. The tape had finished when Joseph hung up on his father mid-sentence. The recorded voice indicated the conversation had taken place Tuesday morning.

Elliot turned to Olivia, "Casey'll love this. This is motive plain and simple, none of this Post-Traumatic Stress bull. We just need to figure out what he was involved in"

Olivia held up the leather-covered notebook, "and this is going to help us"

**000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000**

"P. Cruz; Central Park, 3.20pm last week," Olivia read off the page in front of her, Elliot looking over her shoulder, "the entries go back about a year and a half, and the most recent entry was to a D. Dominguez at Hudson Dorms, 5.00pm four days ago," she handed the page to Elliot, "Cap, we need to figure out who the Cronies are and where Joseph got all that money from"

Cragen nodded, "Munch, Fin, head off to the Gang Taskforce at the 1-7. They might have information as to who they are. Benson, Stabler, check out this guy's financials downtown, I'll call Casey for a subpoena"

They nodded, grabbing their jackets as they left the bullpen.

**00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000**

"Benson, Stabler, SVU. We've got a subpoena for the financial records of Joseph Quant."

The lady behind the desk smiled kindly as she typed the name into her computer after taking the subpoena out of Olivia's hand. She bit her lip as she read whatever was on the screen in front of her. Elliot shifted in the uncomfortably stiff chair that he and Olivia were sharing.

"I'll leave you two to it. I'll get you a copy," she turned the computer screen towards them before getting up from behind her desk to get the print-out for them.

Olivia and Elliot leant forward, reading up on Joseph Quant's financials. He had two accounts in his name. One, a trust that would be given to him when he turned twenty-five, and another that he had for daily use. While his trust remained untouched; except for monthly deposits by his mother, his other account had a wire transaction each week that deposited ten-thousand dollars.

Olivia ran her finger down the screen, dictating to Elliot the dates the deposits were made, "he makes forty grand a month," Olivia said in disbelief, "and that's in his account. There had to have been a hell of a lot more in that drawer and who knows where else"

The bank clerk returned swiftly, paperwork in hand, "There you go detectives"

"Thanks," Elliot said, taking them from her, "is there any way of knowing who made these deposits?" Elliot asked, indicating the weekly transactions.

The clerk shook her head, "Well these deposits aren't made from a personal or group account, they're only cash deposits, so they're relatively untraceable. You'd have to ask the bank at which they were made and hope they remembered the person who made the deposits in the first place. Sorry Detectives"

Elliot and Olivia sighed as they left the bank, "I wonder if Munch and Fin had more luck?"

**000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000**

"The Cronies are dangerous, how'd you come across them?" Sgt. Bigglot was the head of the Gang Taskforce in the 1-7. His lithe frame and youthful features masked the strength he had behind him. At one point, a rumour had circulated that he had single-handedly forced a group of five gang-members into submission. He was too modest to confirm or deny the allegations, and the gang members too ashamed to admit it.

Fin and Munch sat across from his desk that was scattered with unfinished paperwork and food wrappers.

"We're investigating the murder of Dennis Quant, and we think his son was caught up in their activities," Munch said, crossing his leg.

Bigglot took a deep breath, leaning back in his chair, "The Cronies are a branch of the Columbian Drug Cartel."

Munch and Fin's eyebrows rose in unison, whatever answer they had been expecting, it wasn't that. "No wonder he wanted his son out, he had Columbians on his tail," Fin said, shaking his head in disbelief.

Bigglot nodded, "they're the more visible aspect of the Columbian gangs. As you know, Cesare Valentez is the unofficial head of the drug business, more specifically cocaine, in America. He and his followers stay underground and employ those that are dispensable to do their dirty work. The rats you find on the street that live in hovels and make a fraction of what Valentez does are those he's willing to sacrifice in this business. If they go to the police, he'll kill them sooner then he'd blink. The Cronies are a violent faction of the cartel, and act as the go-betweens. They interchange between drug-trafficking and carrying out hits for the head honchos," he finished, taking in Munch and Fin's disbelieving expressions.

"He musta been in deep," Fin said, turning to Munch, "to have that much money"

"In any case, they're the balls behind the brains of the Columbian offensive. It's like trying to nail jell-o to the wall with these guys. If they get cornered…"

"…they'd blow up an airliner to kill one person," Fin finished, recalling the words a detective in narcotics had told him four years ago.

Biglott nodded sadly, "we lost some DEA officers in a sting involving the Cronies last year. We were so close to nailing them, but they found our mole before we got anything solid," he leant forward, "be careful detectives. Where these guys are involved, they'll stop at nothing to protect their product."

"There anyone we can talk to about whose involved in the activities? Someone who may know if Quant was mixed up in it?" Munch asked.

Biglott cocked his head to the side, "you'd be putting his life in danger. It's taken us two years to get him in this deep, and if he's found out; our chances to catch some of these guys go too," he noticed their desperate expressions and sighed, "you can speak to our co-ops in narcotics. They're in on the undercover and handle the informants at a street level. Maybe they can help. But if it gets to the level of DEA, then it's out of all our jurisdictions"

Munch and Fin nodded in understanding, "we've experienced first hand the affects of the Columbian cartel. We know what we can expect"

Biglott nodded, "Cabot right? Well, just take care"

Munch and Fin rose from their seats, shaking his hand in thanks, "call if you need help. Within reason of course"

He flashed them a smile as they exited through the door.

Fin turned to Munch as they made their way to their sedan, "what did this guy get involved in?"


	8. Safety

**Disclaimer: Dick Wolf owns and will continue to own every SVU character. **Woe is me not owning them…lol

**Author's notes:** I hope you guys enjoyed this fic. This is the last chapter. If I get enough reviews, I may post my second fic entitled "fairytale", there's even a sneak-peak at the end. Thanks for all your kind words! Love, Laura

"So Quant was a runner for the Columbian drug cartel?" Cragen clarified; amazed at the way the case had unfolded.

"Biglott says the Cronies are extremely dangerous; that they'll stop at nothing to protect their personnel," Munch reported to Cragen, Elliot and Olivia.

"How do we connect Quant to the cartel," Elliot began, from his desk chair, "and prove that Dennis knew about it?"

The silence that settled between the group reflected the position they were in. It was extremely dangerous to get involved with the drug cartels again; not just for themselves, but for an ongoing investigation, involving more than one jurisdiction.

"I don't want to get involved more than we need to be," Cragen said, reading their thoughts, "but we need to take up Biglott on his offer and check in with narcotics."

"What about the wire transactions?" Olivia asked.

"I'll get Morales on it, see if he can't get anything on those that deposited the money," Cragen said, picking up the phone off the receiver, "I want you guys to go over to narcotics and see what you can get, I'll let you know if Morales comes up with anything"

They made for the door, "be careful," Cragen warned, as he dialled TARU's number.

**000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000**

Munch, Fin, Elliot and Olivia crowded into Lt. Pizzelli's office, which was currently unoccupied. Pizzelli had been called to a case across town and was on his way back according to the office clerk. While they waited they spread out across the room; Munch took up residence against the filing cabinet at the back; Fin the empty wall next to him with a window that had a view down onto the street below. Olivia took one of the chairs opposite the desk, while Elliot opted to stand behind her, his arms folded in a tell-tale stance that he was wired with nervous energy.

Lt. Pizzelli was a sizeable man, rotund with a balding head. He gave the impression that he had an indifferent air about him, but you would be hard-pressed to find somebody more dedicated to their job. He greeted them with a smile as he made his way to the chair opposite his desk, followed by two other detectives from the narcotics division. They recognised the male as Mike Sadoval from previous cases, but the female was unfamiliar.

"Detectives, you remember Mike? This is his partner, Detective Vanessa Gilmore. They're here to brief you on our investigation thus far on the Cronies. I trust you understand the information is highly sensitive and therefore doesn't leave the room?"

They all nodded their heads in agreement, "Good," Pizzelli responded, "now, we only operate on the street level. We wrangle the low-lives that Valentez recruits to do his actual dealings. Most are dead before we get to questioning them, it's a dangerous business," he trailed off. "Anyway, I'll leave Sandoval and Gilmore to help you as much as they can, but we can't promise you too much. This group is like a fortress"

Pizzelli rose from his chair and left his office just as his mobile trilled from an incoming call. He snapped the door closed behind him, and Sandoval stepped forward smiling, "I can't say I'm too glad to see you guys. Whenever we meet someone's either dead or dying," he rubbed his hands together, "so what do you know so far?"

Munch and Fin filled Sandoval and Gilmore in on what Biglott had informed them about the gang, while they in turn offered what they knew about the investigation that was currently underway at a Federal and State Level.

Gilmore put her hands on her hips, "well we've been involved for the past couple of years since the Cronies became most active. Before them, blood-shed was on a 'last choice' basis, but these guys will kill if you so much as look at them. The amount of money your perp had on him, plus that notebook would indicate he was, and still, is an important player. If he looks like talking; someone in Rikers or Sing-Sing will have his balls for breakfast"

"To put it mildly," Sandoval added in jest, "but seriously. We don't actually have names of active members; we only have general ideas as to who's involved – mainly the bigger fish with the most protection. Word on the street is that they're recruiting younger members to remain inconspicuous in more public areas. Nobody looks twice at students exchanging books, or at kids selling chocolate bars for charity. So your perp fits the profile of their flavour of the month."

Olivia nodded, "so if we give you the name of our perp, could your informants let us know if he's involved?"

Sandoval and Gilmore exchanged a look, "we'll do our best. But chances are he uses an alias on the street. And passing a photo around will draw too much attention"

"So we're stuck then?" Munch asked ruefully.

"If you can connect your perp to one of the known dealers with concrete evidence; then we can nail them both," Sandoval offered, taking Quant's file from Elliot, "but until then, we need to chance our luck with just his name and hope for the best"

**000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000**

While an informant for Narcotics circulated Quant's name on the street; Sandoval, Gilmore and the other Detectives returned to the 1-6, surprised to find Morales waiting for them in the doorway of Cragen's office.

Cragen's head appeared over his shoulder, gesturing for the group to join them inside.

"Cap?" Elliot questioned as the group crammed into the office.

Morales's jacket was inside-out, almost as though he'd thrown it on in a hurry, "What is it?" Olivia asked, as Sandoval closed the door behind them.

Morales handed them each a copy of a photo taken from a CCTV camera, "I have a friend that works in a bank down in Florida," Morales began to explain, "your financials indicated a number of the wire transactions took place at that branch. So I called for a favour, and had him send over footage of the person that instigated these deposits," he paused as they flipped through the various print-outs, there were three different men. "The same three men are the one's making these transactions," Morales turned to Sandoval and Gilmore, "your Captain said you'd recognise at least one of them"

Sandoval nodded his head in awe, "that's Dominic Dominguez," he pulled out the next picture, "that's Pablo Cruz,"

Gilmore cut him off, "and that's Oliver Tudez"

They noticed the other detective's clueless looks, "they're the connection you've been looking for; and the one we've been trying to make for the past two years"

Morales nodded, "these men's presence coincide with various ten thousand dollar deposits,"

"and that's just in Florida," Munch finished.

Morales nodded, "if you can find any other connections, it'll just be icing on the cake"

Munch smirked, "for us or the DEA?"

**000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000**

Joseph Quant sat silently as Elliot, Olivia and Casey entered his holding cell in Rikers. His attorney looked smug, but Joseph looked very much on edge; exacerbated by his eye which was a mixture of purple and yellow; blemishing his pale skin.

He sat up straighter as Olivia and Casey sat opposite him, Elliot remained leaning against the grate-like entrance, feigning disinterest; but the muscles working in his jaw suggested otherwise.

"Come here to deal Counsellor?" Trollows asked, eyeing Elliot warily.

"I'm putting a deal on the table; and it will be there for as long as it takes my detectives here to explain the situation to you," she paused for dramatic affect, "then it will be gone, and we'll seek the maximum for Murder 2."

Trollows searched Casey's face, calculating whether or not to call her bluff. Joseph meanwhile, still hadn't made eye contact with anyone in the room.

"We'll hear your detectives out Ms. Novak, but we don't have to agree to anything. You know the jury will convict for manslaughter, but I'm interested in what's got you so riled up," she leant forward on her elbows, resting her chin on her hands.

Elliot moved towards the table, opening the file he had in his arms, spilling a number of photos over the large expanse of the desk-top, under Quant and his attorney's nose.

Trollows raised her eyebrow, obviously confused, "and these are?"

Casey turned to Quant, who had turned different shades of purple, green and white before settling on red, as he took in the images in front of him. He opened his mouth to say something, but Trollows cut him off with a raised palm.

Olivia ignored Trollows and leant forward, "you need to start talking Joseph. This is bad news for you, and if you lie, you'll be lucky to ever see the light of day as a free man again"

Elliot rounded the desk, stopping behind his chair, "you did a good job of painting yourself as the victim to your girlfriend. Got her to lie for you," he leaned down to Quant's ear level, "made her believe your father was to blame. But we know the truth"

Joseph's lip trembled, "I don't know what you're talking about"

"Oh I think you do," Elliot seethed, moving his head to Quant's other ear, "and your father found out what you were doing didn't he? He threatened to turn you in didn't he? Didn't he?" Elliot demanded slightly louder. Quant jumped a little in his seat.

Olivia pushed the images around the table; practically spilling them over the edges due to their sheer number, "these men are known drug dealers or drug associates. And each has been placed putting wire transactions through to your account, and others, across the country. They were paying you for your services," she cocked her head to the side, "where'd you deal Joseph? At school, under your girlfriend's nose? Or from home, under your father's? That must've been how he found out, right Joseph?"

Trollows' mouth was opening and closing, but no noise was coming out. Casey raised her eyebrow in amusement, "what's wrong Ms. Trollows, cat got your tongue?"

Joseph's breathing became uneven, "you don't understand. They'll kill me"

"Joseph, not another word," she turned back to Casey, "what are you offering Casey?"

"He testifies to being involved with the Cronies, he serves 7.5-12 in a maximum security Psych facility away from Valentez's men. Protective detail, separate from General Population; the works. We want him to testify for both us and the Feds," Casey turned to Joseph, "it's your turn to make what you've done a little bit right"

Quant looked sceptical, "these guys have men all over the place. I'm not safe anywhere"

"If you're relying so heavily on his testimony, can't you do a little bit better?" Trollows argued weakly.

Casey shook her head, unmovable, "The deal's on the table until I leave this room, and then it's gone. You can take your chances at trial for murder and drug charges, and spend your time here in Rikers, or you can plead out now, and do the right thing. We have enough to put you away for life; even the death penalty"

Trollows leaned over to Joseph's ear, and whispered behind her hand. When she'd finished, they faced Casey and Olivia.

"Deal," Trollows said, "but you do understand how dangerous the situation is going to be for him?"

They nodded, "we just want to know how your father was involved"

Trollows nodded to Joseph, who sighed, "he saw me dealing in Central Park on the weekend; he confronted me in front of another dealer. Word got to one of the big guns that my father had found out about us, said he'd fix the problem if I didn't," he began to sob, "I had no choice"

"Why didn't you just get out?" Olivia asked quietly.

Joseph gave her an incredulous look, "once you're in, that's it. You're either in or you're dead. These guys are cold-blooded killers, and I never approved of it. But I kept quiet and did my job."

"And I'm sure the money wasn't a motivation?" Elliot asked snidely, earning a reproachful, "detective" from Casey.

"Anyway," Quant said, shifting uncomfortably, "It didn't need to come to that. But if he had just stayed out of it, then it would all be ok"

"I think that's all you need to know Detectives," Trollows said, watching sadly as Joseph began to cry openly, "we need to get him to a secure facility. As soon as news breaks that he's testifying for the Feds his life's in jeopardy."

Casey nodded, "We'll meet in judge's chambers now, see if we can't get Petrovsky to sign off on the deal"

Trollows nodded, standing with Joseph as a guard escorted them out of the room, preparing Joseph for transportation.

Casey sighed heavily, watching as Olivia began pulling the photos on the table in a pile, helping Elliot put them back in the folder.

"Good work guys," she said, rising from her seat, "I'll catch up with you as soon as I'm done in court"

Elliot and Olivia nodded, as the clicking of Casey's heels receded down the corridor.

Elliot turned to Olivia smiling as they made their way towards the exit, "I think this gives us at least the rest of the day off, don't you think?

"Amen to that," Olivia said replied, glad to feel the fresh air outside.

Elliot turned to her in the car, wiggling his eyebrow suggestively, "and I know just how I'd like to spend it."

Olivia rolled her eyes as they made their way back to the precinct.

End.

I hope you guys enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. I might look into posting another of my fics. It really depends on what you guys say in your reviews. If you leave enough, the sequel's already finished, un-typed and I might just post it. I'll leave you with a sneak-peak…

**Fairytale**

"Let's hope so," Elliot said, standing up straight again. He narrowed his eyes as he noticed that the gaggle of reporters had grown in numbers; the flash from their cameras illuminating the eerie darkness around them each time a photo was taken.

As Olivia rose off her haunches, a member of the CSU team called out to them from a nearby shrub, "detectives!"

Olivia handed Melinda's clipboard back to her, "see you at the autopsy tomorrow morning"

Olivia joined Elliot's side as they made their way towards a group of CSU techs surrounding a smattering of shrubs bordering a pathway and cycling track.

"I've got something you might find interesting," O'Halloran informed by way of greeting. He held up two stickers inside separate evidence bags, "these were found on the bodies. We'll dust them for prints"

Elliot took them in his hands, reading them with a furrowed brow, "Hansel and Gretel?" He turned to O'Halloran, "that their names?"

O'Halloran shook his head, "no, your Captain just called through an ID; parent's reported them missing last night," he read off his notes, "A Matthew and Fiona Wilcox"

"So they are related," Elliot said, handing the bag over to Olivia, "anything else?"

O'Halloran led them towards the bodies and pointed at a plaster cast another tech had setting in the dirt, "it's a footprint. It just rained so this is new. Also, this," he handed Olivia a plastic evidence container.

Olivia shook it in front of her, squinting, "bread crumbs?" She turned to Elliot, her eyes widening as realisation dawned "he's recreating a fairytale"

**Stay tuned…**


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